Introduction to Samantha
Hi everyone, I’m Samantha Dare, your newest writer in this wide world of erotica, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to approach this new endeavor. And after much deliberation as to what my first story submission should be of all the ones I’ve been crafting, it dawned on me that i should just tell you about....me.
You know how it is when you hit your 40s—the kids are off doing their own thing, and you’re left with a bit more time on your hands and a whole lot of imagination? That’s me, folks. A wife of 18 years, my body is still hanging in there with some solid C-tits and a very MILFy ass if i do say so myself but i also have two teenagers that barely know I exist, and a husband who’s more interested in his job than the fire that’s still smoldering inside me. But, hey, that’s life, right? Or at least, that’s what it was before I picked up a pen and started scribbling down the naughtiest thoughts that flitted through my mind.
Now, I’m not saying my marriage is a complete snoozefest, but let’s just say that the days of getting deep dicked on the kitchen counter are long gone. So, I did what any woman that’s trying to maintain her faithfulness would do—I turned to writing. And let me tell you, it’s been the best decision I’ve made in years.
My stories, they’re like my secret garden, a place where I can let all my inhibitions go and frolic in the fields of pure, unadulterated lust. I write about all the things I’ve never had the guts to do in real life. And let’s be honest, probably never will. But here, on the pages of my book, I can unleash my 41-year-old body with the sexual appetite of a nymphomaniac without guilt or shame. And the best part? I get to share it all with you, which is incredibly hot to think about readers from around the world fingering or stroking themselves to my words. That kind of power can be addictive and while I can’t be there in person to clean the juices up off of all of my readers up after the fact, dont think that I wouldn’t love to.
So what am i into? Like REALLY into? First and foremost, I’ve got this thing for mind control. I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve masturbated to a quality mind control story, wishing it was me being controlled into becoming an insatiable slut, all while my husband has been asleep in the other room.
The thought of being completely at the mercy of someone else’s desires, with my—or someone else’s—body responding to their every whim without a single objection is as hot as it gets for me. That’s the kind of shit that makes me squirm in my chair and reach for my favorite vibe.
i lovvvvveeee the idea of letting a complete stranger invade my thoughts, twist them into knots and make me do things I’d never dream of doing otherwise, and in front of my husband on top of it. The other night I was fantasizing about a similar scenario while getting off, thinking about our perverted neighbor Mike (real name withheld to protect the guilty lol) and what Mike would to.me if that sick fuck had mind control powers. Mike is this 22-year-old dork that lives across the street. He’s got that whole awkward, skinny, glasses-wearing, never-got-laid-until-college vibe going on. And I swear to God, every time I catch him peeking at me through those thick-rimmed nerd goggles of his, I can feel his eyes undressing me, like he’s trying to telepathically fuck me. Make no mistake, i have zero interest in fucking him but the thought of him mind controlling me into being his little slut....well, that’s a different story.
So, there I was, legs spread wide, vibrator buzzing away, my eyes glazed over as I thought about Mike’s imaginary voice whispered sweet nothings into my ear. “Spread your legs wider, Samantha,” he’d say, his voice deep and authoritative. And like the good little slut I was in this fantasy, I’d obey, giving him a full view of my wet pussy. “That’s it, baby. Let me see how much you want it,” he’d coo, and I’d shiver with pleasure at the sound of his voice, feeling his invisible hand stroking me, controlling me. It was like he was right there in the room with me, guiding me to new heights of pleasure that I’ve never felt before, all from just his words in my head.
Honestly....just thinking about this again is really getting me hot and bothered. I can feel my panties getting wet just from recounting the scene in my mind. I’m just trying to introduce myself to you all and now I’m kinda dying to finger myself again. The power of words, huh? It’s a strange and beautiful thing, really.
But let’s get back to the good stuff. In my fantasy, Mike’s mind control over me was absolute. He had me doing all sorts of naughty things, my body moving without my consent but with my full, throbbing desire. “Take off your shirt, Samantha,” he’d command, and I’d obediently lift my top over my head, revealing my nicely round tits. “Pinch your nipples,” he’d say, and I’d give them a good, hard squeeze, watching in the mirror as they turned rosy and erect. “Now, show me how you play with yourself,” he’d murmur, and I’d slide my hand down my stomach, teasing my clit before slipping a finger inside my pussy. It’s like he knew all my buttons and was pressing them in....
Shit. I don’t believe this. I’m turning myself on wayyyyy too much. My apologies guys, but I can’t...I just can’t resist anymore....
Mmmm...yes, just like that... I’m going to...oh, fuck...I’m going to have to finger myself while I write the rest of this....fuuuuck that feels good.....
So....ohhhhh gooooddddd.....my hand a blur as I worked my clit, lost in the fantasy of being Mike’s mind-controlled fucktoy...mmmmmm.... “You want me to come for you, don’t you, Samantha?” his voice echoed in my mind, and I nodded eagerly, my breath coming in gasps...fuck I wish this was real... “Then show me how much you want it,” he ordered, and without missing a beat, I started to pump my fingers in and out of my soaking wet cunt.....just like I am now actually....imagining it was his cock filling me up instead. The vibrator was still buzzing away, but my own touch felt so much more intense, like I was actually being used by him, my body a plaything for his sick, twisted whims....God that sounds so fucking good right now.....
.... Honestly, as I’m telling you all this, I’m getting closer and closer to the edge, my pussy clenching around my fingers, my juices soaking my hand. Shit I wish one of my readers could mind control me and force me to suck them dry...especially with my husband in the other room....fucking shit I’m soaked right now ...writing ain’t easy....but I’m a professional, I’ll keep going, I’ll keep typing through this fucking orgasm that’s building deep within me, because that’s what a good writer does, right?
...God damn do i need some cock right now.....but good writers give it their all, even if it means getting a little messy. So here’s to hoping my keyboard doesn’t get too sticky, because I’m thinking of Mike’s got me on all fours now, my face buried in a pillow to muffle the screams that want to rip from my throat as he takes me from behind, his dick pumping into me like a jackhammer. And oh my God, I can feel it, the tension coiling tight, tight, tighter...until...yes...yes...right... there...I...oh...fucking... oh GOODDDD..I’m...CUMMING...for..you...Mike...you...bastard...
Jesus christ... let me tell you, readers, that was a good one. I’ve got this little trickle of juice running down my thigh and my breath is ragged, but I...don’t want to stop....my mind is so fucking depraved. “Faster, Samantha,” it’s telling me, “you know you want it harder.”
Uhhhhhhh....Do you have any idea how hard it is to write erotica when all you want to do is masturbate??? Fuck....just...clean myself up a bit...and then we can get back to it. Oh, and if my grammar or spelling goes to shit, it’s because my brain’s half mush from that orgasm. It’s like my pussy’s got a vendetta against coherent sentences or something.
But, where were we? Ah, yes, Mike’s mind control shenanigans. So, there I am, on all fours, my ass up in the air like I’m begging for it, which, let’s face it, I totally was. And he’s just pounding away, like he’s trying to break a world record for deepest dick dive in a MILF. And it’s fucking glorious, because he’s not just using my body for his pleasure, he’s controlling my mind too, making me crave every thrust, every slap of his balls against my ass. I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter, my juices dripping onto the bed, and it’s all because he’s got my brain in a vice grip of lust.
“Mike,” I moan to myself, because apparently, my mouth has a mind of its own in this fantasy, “Mike, come over, for REAL, and fuck me like this.”
Shit. I don’t mean that. I DO love my husband, don’t get me wrong. Maybe, just maybe, I’ve been underestimating my need for some good, hard dick. Not just in my stories, but in my actual life.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I’ve got a point to make about my writing, and it’s not just that I’m a wedded slut that gets off on her own words. No, the real problem is that I get so fucking distracted by the thought of actually getting off and getting fucked that it’s a miracle I can even form coherent sentences half the time. It’s like my brain’s got a VIP to the hottest orgy in town, and it’s constantly RSVPing with a resounding “Yes, I will attend and I will come...over and over again.” And my poor, neglected words are left to fend for themselves, trying to make sense amidst the chaos of my hormone-induced haze.
I can’t even imagine a reader trying to understand this shit. Hell, Mike is a fucking dork and I’m over here writing like I’d disown my own children to have him violate me.
Listen guys, I’ve got to wrap this up cause I’m gonna have to wake my husband up just to get some kind of dick in me. But I do hope you will read some of my future writings too...Shit, I haven’t even touched upon my bondage fetish. Or my cuckold fetish. Or my BBC curiosity....I may have a problem lol. But I’ll put myself in some stories but I’ve got a ton of original characters I want to play around with too.
But before I go and wake the old man up, let’s just leave it like this: Writing about being a slut is great and I hope you me for the ride, but it IS just a fantasy that I couldn’t actually act on....
I think.